


Compromise

by RetroactiveCon



Series: Four Times Trouble [14]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Aftercare, Bondage, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom/sub, M/M, Non-Sexual Kink, Painplay, Punishment, Temperature Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:13:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26286226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon
Summary: “The two of you will stay bound like this for forty minutes,” he says. He’d agonized over the time limit until Barry gently reminded him that any of them, Ray included, could safeword out if it was too long. “There is a way out of your bondage that doesn’t involve you slipping out of your ropes. It will require compromise. If the two of you work it out before the allotted forty minutes, you’ll be released early.”“We can wait out forty minutes,” Len drawls.“I know you can,” Ray agrees. “Which is why I’m giving you incentive. I’m fed up with your arguing and want to punish someone. Barry has graciously agreed to take the punishment I would otherwise visit on the two of you.”
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart/Earth-X Leonard "Leo" Snart/Ray Terrill
Series: Four Times Trouble [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706920
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	Compromise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SophiaCatherine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaCatherine/gifts).



> SophiaCatherine asked for more Dom Ray, which seemed like the perfect time to indulge their love of painplay. Soph, I hope you enjoy!

It takes a week after moving in for Ray to implement the scene he’d mentioned to Barry as they set up the playroom. Len and Leo are arguing—not about anything important, just because they can—when Ray snaps, in a tone that means business, “Playroom. Now.”

Barry is halfway up the stairs before he thinks about it. When he looks back, Len and Leo are following at a respectable pace. Good to know Ray’s Dom voice doesn’t just make him weak and eager to obey. 

Ray follows them into the playroom more slowly. In one hand, he holds a bowl of water and a small electric heating pad; in the other, he has a bowl of ice. All three of them watch apprehensively as he plugs in the heating pad and sets the bowl of water to warm up. While it heats, he takes out the spreader bar, the power-dampening cuffs, and a substantial quantity of rope. 

“Barry, love. Undress for me and get on the bed, please.”

Barry strips in a flash and spreads out on the bed, face up so he can see his Doms looking down at him. “Like this, Sir?” he asks of Ray. 

“Yes, my good boy.” Ray gives him a kiss that makes him wriggle happily; then he secures the handcuffs around his wrists. Losing access to his speed aches faintly, but he doesn’t mind. By now, he’s learned it’s safer for his speed to be one of the things over which he gives his Doms control. “This is perfect.”

Barry stays still and happy, basking in the praise, while Ray secures the spreader bar around his ankles. With a _click_ , it extends to a length just shy of uncomfortable. Barry can hold this position for hours if he needs to. It’s not, however, the best angle for seeing what’s going on around him. If he tries, he can just follow Ray’s movements as he picks up the rope and approaches Len and Leo. 

“The two of you may both stay clothed, but you see the pillows set out by the walls. Kneel. I don’t care who takes which spot, but face me and put your arms behind your back.”

Leo obeys instantly. Len takes a little more time, but eventually, he folds to his knees on the other pillow. 

“Thank you,” Ray says curtly. It’s not praise, just acknowledgment. He’s cross with them, Barry thinks, and shivers.

Ray binds their arms behind their backs. He uses the same long rope for both of them, feeding it through a metal loop newly attached to the playroom wall. This means their positions depend on each other: one of them can have their arms resting somewhat comfortably, but only by tugging the other’s arms up into a stressful position. 

“There.” Ray stands back and admires his handiwork. There’s a flurry of movement as both of them try to lower their arms into the comfortable position; Len wins. Ray folds his arms. Barry’s at a bad angle to see his face, but he can imagine his severe, disappointed expression. “Now, I have had it with the two of you and your constant fighting. I appreciate that you have led vastly different lives with vastly different traumas that inform your nearly-incompatible communication styles, and I don’t intend to minimize the need to respect that. But what Barry and I want—and what I hope to teach you today—is for the two of you to put significantly more effort toward _compromise_.”

“And what exactly would convince us to do that?” Len drawls. “We’ve both been through worse than a little predicament bondage.”

Ray ignores him and crosses to the toybox once more. Something metal rattles, and he withdraws two implements. One of them goes in the warm water; the other goes into the ice. “The two of you will stay bound like this for forty minutes,” he says. He’d agonized over the time limit until Barry gently reminded him that any of them, Ray included, could safeword out if it was too long. “There is a way out of your bondage that doesn’t involve you slipping out of your ropes. It will require compromise. If the two of you work it out before the allotted forty minutes, you’ll be released early.”

“We can wait out forty minutes,” Len drawls. 

“I know you can,” Ray agrees. “Which is why I’m giving you incentive. I’m fed up with your arguing and want to punish someone. Barry has graciously agreed to take the punishment I would otherwise visit on the two of you.” This is—while not precisely a lie—greatly exaggerated. There was nothing gracious about the way Barry had jumped at the chance to take pain for his Doms. “If you don’t find a way out before your forty minutes are up…well, I can inflict quite a bit of pain in forty minutes.”

“No!” Leo bursts out. There's a rattle and an irritated noise as though he's tugged on the rope and yanked Len around in the process. “Oh, Ray, you mustn’t. We make Barry suffer enough by arguing around him—don’t make him take any more pain because of us.”

Ray tilts his head, the smallest of wicked smiles on his lips. Oh, he’s going to make Barry suffer so perfectly. “Then you have your incentive,” he says, selecting his implement—from the ice, judging by the clinking—and running it lightly over Barry’s skin. The cold registers first, seeping deep into his skin. Only afterward does he notice the pinprick pain. Temperature play pinwheels. Oh, Barry really is going to scream. 

“Color?” Ray says. His severe expression softens, just for a moment. “All three of you, color?”

“Green, Sir,” Barry says instantly. 

“Green,” Leo agrees, sounding more subdued than Barry. 

Len takes a moment to respond, but he doesn’t wait out the five seconds that would be an automatic red. “Green.”

“Good.” Ray’s eyes are still soft when he looks down at Barry. The contrast with the icy tips of the pinwheel, which are still poking lightly into Barry’s chest, makes him shiver in anticipation. “Let’s begin.”

After that, Barry happily surrenders any knowledge that he’s part of a larger scene. He exists for one reason, and it’s to take the pain his Dom is so lovingly giving him. The cold pinwheel is exquisitely painful; it leaves his skin tingling and aching and so, so sensitive. Ray traces it across his body in random patterns: over his chest and belly, up along his right arm, then lifts it off, sets it at the side of Barry’s left knee, and runs it up the outside of his thigh and along his side. Just as Barry has settled from shocked cries to little whimpers, the cold pinwheel lifts away and hot little pinpricks replace it. 

“Stop it, don’t!” Leo’s voice breaks into Barry’s subby haze. He wants to look over at them, reassure them that he’ll be okay, but he’s too caught up in the pain to turn his head. Everything is the heat and the sting and the hypersensitive trails left by the pinwheel over his willing body. It’s agony, but it’s for his Doms, all three of them. That makes it _perfect._

Ray switches the pinwheels again. The trails intersect now, bright cold pain over hypersensitive, heat-stimulated skin, and every time that happens, Barry screams. He’s distantly glad they’re no longer in the apartment, and that Ray had the foresight to soundproof this room. He doesn’t want the neighbors thinking he’s in trouble. 

“Enough!” Len snarls. Oh, he sounds furious. He’s always been so protective of Barry, even when Barry doesn’t need his protection. Like now. Can’t Len see the love in Ray’s eyes as he hurts Barry this way? He’ll never go too far. He loves Barry too much, and that means Barry can take whatever he’s given. “We get the point, all fucking eighty of them or however many are on the fucking pinwheels.”

“Twenty minutes,” Ray says calmly. “If you figure out a compromise, you can spare Barry twenty more minutes of pain.” 

Barry means to thank him for letting him know the time, but all that comes out is a garbled, piteous noise. He wants the pain to stop. He _never_ wants this to stop, being his Doms’ good boy, taking what he’s given. 

“Color?” Ray asks. He lifts the pinwheel off of Barry’s skin and cards the fingers of his free hand through Barry’s hair. “Tell me your color, good boy.”

Barry’s not sure he remembers how words work, but he remembers taps. He taps twice against the pillow on instinct—‘green,’ he could keep going forever. Ray beams at him and bends down to kiss his brow. 

“My good boy, thank you for telling me. And you two.” He glances up at Len and Leo. “You’re still a long way off from figuring out the way out. Colors?”

“Green,” Leo says. Dimly, Barry registers the note in his voice as gratitude. He’s such a good sub when he goes down for Ray, Barry thinks happily. Both of them, their Dom’s good boys. 

“Green,” Len spits. He sounds positively mutinous, but giving a ‘green’ means he knows what he’s agreeing to, even if he doesn’t necessarily enjoy it. He’s too invested, Barry thinks. He wants to figure out how to get out, not safeword out. 

“Good.” Ray presses the pinwheel to Barry’s skin. He’s switched it again, the cold for the heat. “Then we’ll continue.”

Barry relaxes from where he’d instinctively tensed under the prickling heat. He’s safe. He’s anchored in his body, held there by the pleasurable pain Ray is inflicting on him, but his mind is drifting. Completely vacant, he thinks idly, giggling through a cry at the memory of Leo cooing at him while he was this deep in subspace. Leo had been right. Going this deep, it’s like being empty for his Doms, waiting for them to mark him with pleasure or pain or whatever they see fit. And he has been marked, he thinks; Ray has already used him as such a lovely canvas for streaks and streaks of pain. 

“My good boy,” Ray coos. His voice blends with the pain and makes it better, makes it pleasurable. Barry is good and the pain is good and his Dom is there, keeping him safe. “Look at you, suffering so beautifully for us. You can’t imagine what a rush it is, sweetheart, to hurt you like this and see you take it. You’re so very good for me, sweetheart, such a darling boy.”

He runs his free hand over Barry’s belly. His skin is so sensitive from the pinwheels that the touch is too much. Barry can’t even tell whether what he’s feeling is pleasure or pain, only that it wrenches another ragged cry from his lips. 

“Enough!” Len snaps again. 

“Is that a red?” Ray’s head snaps up, the adoring look he’d given Barry melting into focused attention. 

“No, it’s—no.” Len sounds so frustrated and angry. Barry wants to tell him it’s okay, but he doesn’t have the words. “Leo, I need you to give me some slack. Raise your arms.”

Barry doesn’t remember what that means. When he turns his head, Leo is glaring, his arms tucked close to his back. 

“You had my arms winched up more than half the time, I think I deserve a rest.”

“No, it’s the way out!” Len snaps. Ray must be giving him a look, because he drags in a deep breath and softens his tone. “We have to compromise, remember? Raise your arms to where it’s uncomfortable but not all the way up. I’ll do the same.”

The pain has stopped. When Barry glances back up at Ray, he’s gone still, the pinwheel motionless in the air. His eyes are locked intently on Len and Leo. 

“Thirty seconds,” Ray says, his voice ringing clearly through the suddenly-quiet room. “Starting now.”

Barry can’t keep track of time. All he knows is that the pain starts up again, but milder, sweeter. Ray’s hand, he realizes, brushing over his sensitive skin. He’s so keyed up that the light touch hurts. The longer his touch goes on, the more it fades into pleasure—overwhelming and almost too much, but a soft, pleasurable touch on his highly-sensitized skin. 

“Done.” Ray’s hand lifts off of Barry’s skin. By the time he can make sense of what’s happening, Ray has left his side. He must be over with Len and Leo, but Barry is too worn out to turn his head to see. “My good boys, figuring it out. You’re all done.”

Before Barry can panic at being alone, there are hands on him again, releasing him from his cuffs and helping him put his arms down by his sides. “My good boy,” Ray coos at him, smiling down so proudly. Barry suddenly feels so heavy and tired, but that smile makes it all worth it. “You were so good for all of us, my sweet, sweet sub. I’m going to take the spreader bar off, and Len and Leo are going to cuddle you while I get some snacks, okay?”

Then Barry is enveloped in two sets of clutching arms. Len curls on his left, Leo on his right, and they hold him tightly while Ray releases him from the spreader bar. With his skin still so sensitive, their clinging is just the wrong side of too much, but Barry won’t complain. They need to know he’s okay. 

“Our poor boy,” Leo coos. He presses a kiss to Barry’s cheek, and okay, that’s good. “We should have figured it out before then, darling boy. You shouldn’t have had to suffer that long.”

Barry smiles and taps twice on his arm—‘green.’ He’s okay. Everything is sore and sensitive, and he feels like he could sleep for days, but he’s okay. 

“Here, scoot.” Ray crawls onto the mattress. He ends up settled with Barry between his legs and Len and Leo each against one side. “My good boys,” he says again, helping them each drink some water and little sips of orange juice. “All three of you, the best boys that a Dom could want.”

“What happened to driving you crazy with our arguing?” Len drawls. He reaches up to take his own water bottle, makes a soft wounded sound, and lets Ray help him drink. 

Ray doesn't address that directly, which makes Barry suspect it's too sore a subject for immediate post-scene discussion. Instead, he apologizes, “That was a long time for your arms to be in a stress position. I should have set a shorter time. I underestimated how stubborn the two of you would be, even with Barry to motivate you.” He drops a hand down and rubs Len’s shoulder. Whatever he does, it makes Len purr and melt into the mattress.

“Keep massaging me like that and I’ll accept your apology.”

Ray laughs. “Yeah, apparently the warm light-manipulator hands are a hit during massages. I’ll rub your and Leo’s shoulders if the two of you can help put some aloe lotion on our poor sensitive Barry.” 

Barry makes little mewls at that suggestion. He’s had a pinwheel used on him only once before, but he remembers the cooling effect of the aloe lotion was exactly what he’d needed. 

Len and Leo are, to his surprise, remarkably cooperative. They each take a healthy dollop of lotion in their hands and start spreading it over Barry’s pinwheel-pricked skin. They clearly have territories to which they agree without a word between them, but Barry is still too floaty to pay much attention to whose hand is where. He’s being touched and it feels _amazing_ ; nothing else matters. 

“Oh.” Leo makes a sound of pure delight. Barry glances at him in confusion and sees him melting against Ray’s side while Ray rubs his back with one hand. “Oh that feels wonderful, sweetheart, please keep going.”

“So.” Ray keeps massaging the two of them. He nods at a box of chocolate-covered almonds, which Barry grabs with some difficulty, brings down, and starts feeding to everyone. “I rather thought we could cuddle in here until everyone feels a bit more stable, then go downstairs and the two of you can compromise on a movie while I make dinner. Show us all what you’ve learned, you know.”

“Compromise?” Len scoffs. “All I have to do is suggest a movie this one’s never seen before, he’ll jump for joy.”

Ray raises an eyebrow. “Do you want to do this again in a week? Because I will if you don’t learn your lesson.”

Barry is absolutely not expecting his stubborn Len to mutter, however sulkily, “Yes, Sir.” 

"We could watch _Voyage of the Damned_ again,” Leo says hopefully. “I thought little Midshipman Frame was adorable.”

All three of them burst out laughing. Barry glances at Len, who’s the most likely to refuse. Presently, and not before a flicker of hastily-smothered stubbornness crosses his face, Len agrees, “Well, if we’re all laughing, I think that might be just what we need.”

Barry beams and gives him a kiss in reward, knowing it will mean more to him than any praise Ray could give. It’s returned with a gentle smile and a whispered, “I love you, Scarlet,” that makes him rock joyfully. He loves Ray and Leo—loves them dearly—but Len’s affection will always be a special kind of treasure, especially after enduring so much pain for him. 

"Well,” Ray says delightedly, “that was more of a plan in less time than I ever thought possible.” He bends down to give each of them a kiss on the brow. “What do you say, my loves? A bit more cuddling and then we carry it out?”

There are noises of agreement. All of them snuggle closer together, and Barry pulls Len and Leo’s hands close like cuddle toys. After an awkward moment, the two of them link fingers. It’s so cute after their earlier bickering that Barry starts to hope maybe the compromise scene got somewhere after all.


End file.
